Captive Love
by SmilesLasting
Summary: A man set on revenge against the royal family steals away the crown prince's beautiful fiancée—with many unexpected consequences. A story about unrequited love, blind animosity, effaced conspiracies, and the general human search for happiness. / Rating subject to change.


[A/N] I'm still working on Shelter from the Rain, but suddenly I was just overcome with this idea and wanted to write it XD I have no idea how often updates will be, but here it is. Hope you enjoy! Happy reading~

* * *

[—**CAPTIVE LOVE**—]**  
**_love can be unexpected._**  
**

1} kidnapped.

* * *

Her upcoming wedding invoked cause for celebration, certainly... but that didn't necessarily equate to Sakura Haruno feeling particularly up to politely tolerating the numerous and _enthusiastic_ interrogations from her fellow ladies. They were all the same repeated questions, anyway: "How did you meet the Prince?", "What exactly made him fall for such a lovely lady as yourself?" and "In what manner did he court you?" Et cetera, et cetera. Really, did the title of nobility leave no room for originality?

Running a horse-hair brush gently through the healthy, hip-length tresses of her hair, Sakura ruminated over the matter. Well, they were all just jealous, jaded women, anyway, trying to figure out how exactly a relatively common girl like her had won the Crown Prince's heart, when they or their daughters couldn't. Sakura lacked money, reputation, and background; her winning hand had been coquettish strategy and carefully disclosed vulnerability.

Holding the rich brush's handle loosely between her thumb and forefinger, Sakura looked up, locking eyes with her own green gaze reflected back at her against the mirror. She smiled, curving her pink lips. Yes, she was pretty, with her flowing pink hair, bright green eyes, and soft white skin. She did not possess the most beautiful face in the Kingdom of Konoha, but her exotic features labeled her _different_, and that set her apart from the other more generally pretty girls with whom the Crown Prince often came into contact.

Sakura hated her hair, to the point she had once rebelliously chopped it to shoulder-length in her teenage years and gotten a harsh beating from her mother for it, but, as her mother had claimed it would, it granted her an advantage in earning the Prince's prestigious favor and attention. And here she was, sitting in one of the Grand Palace's many luxurious spare rooms and relieving her long hair of knots with a brush she could never have afforded herself, just as her mother had claimed she would.

"Mother, I've won," she murmured. But her mother was dead, and had been for two years, and so could not also revel in the warm, exciting feeling of victory simmering within Sakura's chest. It had hit her full force when the Prince had asked for her hand in marriage a few days ago, like a powerful tsunami dominating all other emotion, and now enthusiastically lay dormant inside her slender body. Hopefully she wouldn't erupt with this energy.

A knock at the door broke Sakura out of her reverie. "Come in," she called lightly.

A girl with short black hair and shockingly white eyes timidly entered the room and immediately gave a deeply polite bow, her pale hands holding out on both sides of her body the full cloth of her white lacy apron and simply navy dress. "Lady Sakura," she greeted the ground, the small voice respectful. "The Crown Prince wonders if you would like to join him for a—a 'late night snack' this evening."

"Please raise your head," Sakura said, smiling. "I'm not a lady yet."

"That is only until tomorrow morning," the girl said as she slowly straightened her back. Sakura realized the girl's eyes were not completely white (the irises were a pastel lilac) and that the girl was young, probably a little younger than herself: the girl's eyes were wide and her cheeks still looked full.

A baby-ish kind of beauty, nothing Sakura had to worry about, at least not until the black-haired girl got older. "Are you his personal maid?" she asked.

"Y-yes!" The girl looked somehow frightened. "But I am still learning. There are two others besides myself."

Two others? No doubt they were also attractive. Competition could be fatal—though she was fairly confident in the Prince's love for her. "Is that so," Sakura said. She would have to at least get a quick glance at their faces. Sakura rose to her feet and set the horsehair brush down on the night table beside her current (and impossibly large) bed, pausing for a moment to stare at it.

She let the clock in the room tick about fifteen times before she broke the moment by turning to face her fiance's personal maid. "Are you going to lead the way?" Sakura asked, making sure that her tone was kind.

"Eh? Ah, yes, m-my apologies for being slow." The girl gave another brief bow before heading out the door, her footsteps quiet.

Wearing a serene smile, Sakura followed her, brimming with confidence. Right; she didn't need to worry about her place as Konoha's future Queen being snatched away after several years of labor and pristine regimen, not by this stammering little girl. Sakura had accomplished the near impossible goal her mother had set for her; she had become the Crown Prince's fiancée and would be married to him tomorrow morning in a very public ceremony in front of the thousands of people that inhabited Konoha. Everything was going perfectly according to plan. Soon 'hunger' and 'labor' would be concepts nonexistent in an imminent future of riches and pride.

So why exactly was she experiencing such an ominous feeling in her stomach?

::—::

"My princess."

"I'm not yours until tomorrow," Sakura reproved her fiancé with a smile, and pressed a finger against the Crown Prince's lips.

But Naruto Uzumaki did not drop his strong fingers from her jaw. Cerulean eyes, shadowed under long blond eyelashes, peered at her face. They blatantly focused on her lips. "Do I really have to wait until tomorrow to kiss you?" he asked her, the tone of his voice deep and low.

"The Crown Prince is a man of character and principle, yes?" she retorted, suppressing a giggle.

He dropped his hand, and said quietly, "Even though everybody calls me a fraud and thief when I am not present?"

Though his humorous tone tried to convince otherwise, his soft eyes did not radiate his usual jocularity. "My Prince," Sakura said, taking one of his hands in both of her own and pressing its large palm against her cheek, "even if the world were against you, I would remain by your side."

"Always?" he asked, a single eyebrow raised and the hint of a smile on his soft lips.

"Always." No need to question herself about the truth of that determined-sounding statement, because even she didn't know. Occasionally thoughts of flimsy, vague substance would flit across Sakura's mind—that she could love this handsome man, with all his kindness and beautiful heart—but ultimately, she knew that falling in love with Naruto would be too painful. So she kept her heart closed off.

"You know me so well, Sakura," he said.

She let her lips curve. "Of course," she replied, "only a man I loved would take so much precedence in my thoughts that the only thing I could think about this morning was your smile."

He immediately grinned. "May I kiss you?" he asked; subtlety had never been his strong point.

She lowered her eyelids to make her expression a little more seductive. "Must you ask such an embarrassing question?" she whispered. "Just do what you want to do, my Prince."

"You tease me too much," he breathed, and began closing his eyes as his lips drew near. "Sakura, you're the only one…"

The sudden, tinkling roar of a window being smashed open broke the two's mouths apart out of shock. With their hands still on each other, the couple turned their faces to survey the scene of damage. The setting sun outside cast a deep orange glow in the room, outlining the silhouette of a tall figure that wore a hooded cloak, standing amid the shattered pieces of glass.

As the dark figure stepped forward, the Prince cried, "Hinata!" The black-haired maid from earlier, who had meekly been staring at a far-off wall during the Prince's and Sakura's romantic exchange, stood up to shaky attention. Naruto ordered, "Go warn the Queen!"

"Y-yes, sir!" She bowed briefly before fleeing the room. Sakura wondered why the cloaked man did not go after her, but perhaps it didn't matter; the broken window must have made enough noise to raise the Palace guards' awareness.

Or he was after one of the two people left in the room.

Naruto seemed to think the same thing; the Prince held Sakura tightly against his chest in a position of protection, his arms encircling her, one hand on her head and the other resting on her waist. Sakura leaned into the rough fabric of Naruto's oxford shirt and felt the slight vibration as he spoke, the normally cheerful voice suddenly solemn and threatening. "Who are you, sir, and what were you hoping to accomplish by trespassing the Palace?"

The figure stepped closer and into the light of the office's lit chandelier. His face was hidden under the shadow of his black cloak, under which he wore dark gray pants made of some loose fabric, tucked into a pair of black leather boots that ran halfway up his calves and buckled at the side.

The stranger was a man, Sakura decided, the evidence being the tall height and deep voice that answered, "I want revenge."

The Prince's blue eyes narrowed. "Revenge? What have I ever done to you?"

This time there was no worded answer, just a sudden lurching movement. Sakura found the ground rising up to meet her face as the warmth of Naruto's body embracing her suddenly disappeared. The Prince had pushed her to the side, she realized, as she managed to get her bearings and look behind her.

A bead of sweat rolled down Naruto's cheek, as one of his hands unsteadily held the pale, exposed wrist that slipped out of the cloak. Sakura began to tremble at the sight of the silver dagger held in the stranger's hand. If Naruto had been any weaker, and hadn't been able to grasp that wrist in time, surely that dagger would be through his throat right now.

"Don't you dare hurt him!" Sakura shrieked, and without thinking, she threw herself at the stranger's, knocking him to the floor and the dagger out of his hand; it flew to the left about a yard away. He let out a choked gasp, but before Sakura could think of doing anything more, he was already on his feet and was reaching for the dagger again.

"They're here!" Naruto announced, just as the stranger's fingers enclosed around the weapon's handle. The sound of the rapid footsteps of the Palace's hidden army sent a shiver of relief through Sakura's body. At last, they would be safe, and this strange man would be put to—

Her breath was cut off and she felt her immediate environment unexpectedly change. Before she could quite register what had happened, her ears picked up the sounds of heavy footsteps of the army entering the room. "Put my fiancée _down_, you traitor!" she could hear the Prince yell. As her eyes focused, Sakura could only see the back of a black cloak and the beautifully tiled floor, with an uncomfortable pressure on her abdomen.

Then she realized her stomach pressed into the wide shoulder of the vengeful stranger.

Before she could scream, the pattern of checkered dark-blue and white with a few scattered pieces of shimmering glass suddenly morphed into a grassy field full of orange hues. Shouts were behind them, but nobody seemed to be right behind them.

The Prince's office was on the third floor, after all.

Sakura wanted to tearfully laugh in hysteria. Here she was, slung over the shoulder by some man who could leap amazing heights, on the eve of her wedding. The eve of the wedding that for many years she had spent her precious time prepping, forgoing food to get rouge or sweet-smelling oils. The eve of the wedding she had been working towards by starving and begging and learning to seduce men to give her the necessities she needed. The eve of the wedding that would give her the title of Princess of Konoha and future Queen.

The wedding that would give her everything she ever dreamed of.

No way in _hell_ was she going to just let this black-cloak _sonofabitch_ take that away from her!

"Let me _go_!" She rammed her fist as hard as she could into the spot between the man's shoulder blades, and he was momentarily startled. She took the chance to try and roll off to the side, but with the large, strong hand holding her in place, he gripped her so hard she could feel his fingers digging into her waist. She cried out from the pain.

"I can make it hurt worse," the man warned her in a low voice, "if you don't keep quiet."

Instead of emanating fear, Sakura released pent-up rage. "Damn you, you bastard!" she shouted, and punched him again, this time in the small of his back.

Next thing she knew, she was suddenly facing him, her front pressed against his as his arm held her a few inches off the ground. The man possessed milky white skin, dark hair that framed his aristocratic face, and even darker eyes. He was the image of beauty itself, though his brow was furrowed and his lips curved into a frustrated frown.

His eyes seemed to bury into hers.

"Your personality is much worse than I expected from a princess-to-be," he muttered. Before Sakura could retort, there was a sharp pain in the back of head.

And then, all she could comprehend was a pure blankness, and perhaps a faint voice whispering, _How annoying._


End file.
